Iris sat down at the empty bench in the dimly lit great hall. There weren't many hours where nobody littered the hall with their presence, but it was a few hours after dinner and most of the other students were off doing whatever it was they did for fun after the last meal of the night before it was time to go to sleep and begin a new day. She peered around the quiet hall and looked at the few strands of cobweb dangling from a far corner. Wasn't this place kept magically clean? It was a fleeting thought and it twisted out of the eagle's mind as quickly as it appeared. She was here for a reason.

Of course it wasn't an especially important reason. Iris was rarely anywhere for important reasons. All of the important things her life seemed to be the sort of things that could happen anywhere. Sure, tonight's events might take place somewhere else, but really this was the best place for it. Like a multiple choice test, Iris had done her best to choose the most right answer.

Dexterous fingers rolled over the dark brown pile in front of the witch. The aroma of warm spices filled the air and Iris closed her eyes for a moment—taking it in. Beside her lay a small bottle of liquid and a plate full of colorful candies. Echos of the last students trickling through the hallways bounced against the walls around her and Iris knew that it was time to begin.

In the Ravenclaw's mind there was this image of a holiday tradition--white winters filled with laughter and the assembly of Gingerbread houses surrounded by friends and family. This hollow room would simply have to do. Feeling a pang of depression, Iris picked up a small piece of cookie. There was enough here to make several houses, so she didn't feel bad snacking on a little bit. She lifted the fragrant sweet to her mouth and nibbled on a corner while trying to sort out the rest of the pieces into what she needed to assemble a house. After a couple of minutes, the cookie was gone and Iris absentmindedly snagged another one. This one was a gingerbread person. Iris had never been very good at puzzles, so it seemed to take her forever to pick out the right pieces. In that time, it seemed that the witch had consumed a great number of the cookie residents. She frowned. Maybe I'll get at least one of these done before I eat it all... she thought bitterly as she bit the foot off of another gingerbread person out of spite.

This was a wonderful day for a wonderful day. Unfortunately, it did not mean a lot in the life of Timothy Wilde, as he saw every day as the best of his life, with little judgement for anything outside the bright sides. Eventually, Always look on the bright side of life had been written just for him - and the fact he could play it on piano after some printouts his dad had done for him only proved this assumption. In this very moment, he was walking right into the Great Hall, where the lingering scent of food never seemed to fade. It made Lucille croak in dismay, yet every sound his toad ever made sounded exactly like this. The blue-haired boy could not exactly tell if he had a chronically depressed pet or if he was just really bad at listening to the fat toad that was currently located on his shoulder - her favourite place, as he assumed, because where could she possibly rather want to be than as close to his lovely face as possible? Not that he found his face overly lovely, but you know where I am going with this.

He had come here out of boredom, as none of his dorm mates currently wanted to be occupied by the often overly loud and excited boy. The Great Hall was not crowded any more, as dinner had passed a while ago, and only few students were still here to pass time. Some people used the expression of killing time, but his mother had a very elaborate on such a saying: time was far too valuable to be killed, therefore no one should ever refer to spending his free time with less meaningful activities as killing time. And she would know, as she was a nurse at St. Mungo’s and really had no time to spare - or to kill, for that matter. While walking, Timmy was sure that he could stun the few students in the hall with a single, overly loud sneeze - yet he decided against such behaviour, as it seemed to be all too rude. Do no harm but take no shit. Timmy rarely had any vile intentions.

Fast steps were leading the boy straight towards the Ravenclaw table, as none of his other friends was currently here. Of course, in his often so clouded mind, everyone was his friend. There just happened to be different degrees of friendship, different levels - much like levelling up in a game of Mario Cart. Bicoloured eyes fell on the girl who was currently located at the table, before wandering towards the setup in front of her. There was a plate full of sweets, and that was the only invitation Timothy needed to drop his butt right beside Iris on the bench, smiling at her while Lucille decided that his shoulder was no longer her favourite place. With a not very elegant jump, she landed beside the plate full of sweet, once more making a disapproving sound before minding her own business of doing absolutely nothing.

Yoho, yoho, a toad’s life for me. “Are you making a gingerbread house? Can I help you? Does that taste nice? Oh wow, you really shouldn’t eat all of them before you’re done.” The words fell over his lips like a waterfall, splashing down without Timmy taking a single breath while his gaze did not leave Iris’ face. There was no need to introduce himself, as he was immediately in for helping her with her doings. Not for a single moment it came to his mind that she might not appreciate his help, because his mother had always acted like his presence was a blessing to everyone around him. He could not think of a reason why this would not be the case - and before he truly thought about it, he reached for one of the gingerbread cookies too and shoved it in his mouth.

The otherwise quiet hall suddenly burst into sound as a brightly colored student—Iris assumed a Ravenclaw since he was sitting at the Ravenclaw table-- made his way noisily to her little cookie sanctuary. Maybe he would just pass by...The other few students in here were mostly along the walls and seemed perfectly content to ignore her. Which worked wonderfully for the girl who wanted to be ignored. It appeared that wouldn't be the case as the younger student decided to join her and shatter her quiet night of eating all of the gingerbread inhabitants.

Iris' eyes grew wide as she looked over at the overly chatty boy who had plopped down beside her—not to mention the toad that was uncomfortably close to her food. She took the boy in. Was he familiar? Surely she must have seen him around here somewhere. Then again, Iris wasn't known to associate with overly cheerful people—except for Madeline, but she didn't count because she was also a crazy goth chick and the goth look kinda dampened the whole cheerful thing didn't it? Iris made the decision then and there that it most certainly did. Now back to the problem at hand.

It took a moment for the witch to consolidate everything that was asked at once. Who exactly was this guy? What made him think it was okay to just burst in on her evening and ask her a million questions then criticize the way in which she chose to spend her evening? She would eat all of these cookies if she wanted to. A part of her wanted to lie...to say she was waiting for someone...anything to get his person to leave her alone so she wouldn't have to endure the awkward feeling of genuine social interaction. But she was trying to be a better person—trying not to lie. She blinked once...twice...before responding slowly. “Yes, I'm making a gingerbread house.” Her gaze looked over at the half eaten materials. “I guess you can help me.” Then back to the wizard in front of her. “And I know I shouldn't eat them all, but yes, they taste nice.” She paused...taking another bite of spicy gingerbread. “Also—who are you, why are you wearing a pizza, and is the toad going to eat my cookies too?”

Timothy did not know how to be subtle or quiet, no matter how many times his mother and his father had tried to teach him just to calm down a little. He was buzzing with excitement on every given today, embracing whatever the world had to offer to him no matter how rainy a day was - rain meant there were puddles to jump in and rainbows to discover after all, and what could be truly more beautiful than this? His optimism rarely faded, providing him with a naturally given confidence to battle every single situation. It was hard to understand that not everyone was always as loud and cheerful, and he knew that it wasn’t always suitable - especially not during his time as a healing intern, when vials of potions cluttered to the ground due to one all too hectic movement, and needed to be stocked up because Timmy had thoroughly ruined the stash for a whole weekend within three seconds. Here, there wasn’t much to break apart from the plates and glasses that were still littering the Ravenclaw table in this moment - and his new friend who wasn’t aware that they were going to be wonderful friends yet seemed to do a good job on ruining her gingerbread house in progress all by herself.

I guess you can help me. That was all the blue-haired boy needed to hear before punching his fist in the air with a loud “Whoo-hoo!” and an ungraceful croak of his toad. Throughout all those years of being Timothy’s pet, Lucille had never quite gotten used to the boy’s overly loud and booming voice that only seemed to die down when he was asleep - and if you asked his dorm mates, they would tell you that Timmy was most definitely also talking in his sleep, happily chatting away while no one truly understood what he had to say. Just as he contemplated his next move - helping with the gingerbread house or actually helping to devour the gingerbread house - several questions were fired in his vague direction, and dark brows arched as he looked at Iris, a twinkle of mischief in his bicoloured gaze.

He reached out to smooth down his shirt that was indeed displaying a pizza, happy that she had recognised it as such. A lot of students at Hogwarts did not seem to know what a pizza actually was, and Timothy was sad for them - they were missing out so much, how was that even possible? He really wanted pizza, now that she had mentioned it. Unfortunately, explaining pizza to the house elves was also hard, and he would have to wait until he would go home the next time. Life was a constant struggle, even for Timothy Wilde. “Isn’t it cool? And so comfy, I could live in this sweater!” he announced loudly and with a bright grin, before the other question made him stumble. Wait, she did not know who he was? How and why?

“I’m Timmy! You’re in Ravenclaw too, one year above me!” he explained, frowning a little at Iris. Was she okay? Did she pay attention? He really shouldn’t judge as he had the attention span of a drugged goldfish, but this was just…weird. “And I don’t know if Lucille is going to eat your cookies. Are toads supposed to eat cookies?” Absently, he scratched the back of his head, messing up his hair in the process before he reached for one of the gingerbread figures to behead it, placing a tiny crumb in front of his toad. “There, gingerbread for you!” he announced, one finger petting the toad’s head.

Was this kid for real? A single arched brow spoke to Iris' incredulous state which was only accentuated by her constant flinching at the boy's high vocal volume. Was it entirely necessary for him to scream all of the time? As he continued to shout at her, drawing the attention of the few people remaining in the general area, Iris sat with a look of growing confusion with her gaze wandering to the toad every few seconds because it seemed like the amphibian might be more able to communicate in a meaningful way.

Finally, the boy stopped yelling and decided to feed the poor hopping creature a tiny bit of the gingerbread. Iris exhaled audibly as the torrent of sound stopped roaring toward her. It was over...for now. The witch was hesitant to say anything. It was like dealing with an atomic bomb. Come to think of it—that was exactly the way that Kynlee would describe this little beast of a Ravenclaw-- an atomic bomb. He was the atomic bomb of the Ravenclaw house. Still, she needed to say something, if she sat in silence things would only get worse. She considered commenting on the pizza thing, but honestly—that was only going to throw this blue haired creature into another tirade. She most definitely did not want to be subjected to more of his over enthusiastic, bubbly, insanity. Iris paused for a moment, letting her nerves settle.

“Timmy. Right.” She said slowly—another glance at the toad confirmed that the boy was indeed crazy. Even the toad looked uncomfortable. “Well then... Let's start building something before the three of us devour everything. I'm thinking we might at least manage a single house with a single inhabitant—even if we eat the rest of the village we might save a single life...before we eat him...or her...” The eagle nodded as she started trying to fit two walls together with a bit of royal icing. It was a giant mess but she was determined to make at least ONE full gingerbread house.

Timothy Wilde was blessed with multiple talents, even though not all of them were quite as obvious. A loud voice and a certain passion were some of them - the gift of drawing everyone's attention towards him without even noticing what he was doing was another. Those things came naturally to the boy with the colourful hair, and he could not even think of anyone being bothered by his mere existence. All Timmy wanted was some entertainment before going to bed, and he was glad he had found Iris to bless her with his charming and cheerful company - unaware she appeared to be rather distressed by his appearance, his voice, and his overall atmosphere he carried everywhere like a moving discoball in direct sunlight - a meteor no TV station could have warned anyone of before it crashed onto the earth. That was, most likely, Timothy in a nutshell, ready to make everyone's day brighter and significantly louder than ever before.

To the blue-haired eagle's dismay, Lucille did not seem quite as happy about being fed gingerbread, and he deemed it an utter waste of food that he had crumbled the figure for her just for the toad to ignore all the effort he put into feeding her. Rude. Pouting at his pet, he almost forgot that he had come here for a purpose, and that Iris was still sitting beside him, still showing no signs of recognition. Some people really seemed to walk through the world while paying less attention to everything than Timmy, and he did not know if he was offended yet. To be entirely honest, he was not sure if anything could ever truly offend him, as he was one to forgive as fast as possible. Everyone should get along and be friends, as such as the perfect world Timothy mentally lived in on most days - with rainbows, butterflies, and Sketchers that lit up when one stomped the ground.

"Sounds like a good plan!" Timmy chimed loudly, but he did not move a finger to help Iris fixing the walls of her house together. Judging by the amount of gingerbread that was left, it probably wouldn't be enough for a whole village. But she was right, a house couldn't be as hard, and he reached for two larger pieces that looked just about right to make a roof, carefully applying some icing at the edges before fitting them together. Not once did he think about using magic for such a simple task, as he was used to doing it without magic. Especially before Christmas, his mother was often doing double shifts at St. Mungo's to have a chance to be with her family once the holidays arrived, which was why the preparations were performed by his father who was - as he never failed to point out - a muggle.

"It could be the witch out of the fairytale who lives there, you know? The one with the kids in the forest, where one gets roasted in the oven?" His father had once told him there was even a song referring to this happening, and he found that quite impressive to be honest - though it was about shoving the witch in the oven. Muggles had quite a tendency to burn witches with different methods before singing songs about doing just that. Carelessly, Timmy snacked on a gingerbread cookie in the shape of a tree while pressing the roof pieces together, unaware that slowly, cracks were shaping from the pressure he applied.